Burns Without Cue
by zero-damage
Summary: To be honest, Naoto Shirogane had been kind of a jerk before she'd joined the team and still could be two and a half years on.
1. Chapter 1

**Burns Without Cue  
**

"Have you heard of a dog called Hachikō?" Teddie asked.

"Shut it," Kanji told him.

Fine, the Hachikō story was really sweet and sad, especially because it'd actually happened - but Naoto wasn't some dead professor guy, Kanji sure as hell wasn't a dog, and the only reason he was waiting for her to arrive at Yokohama station was in case she couldn't find the hotel.

...Shit, who was he kidding. Naoto probably had GPS built-in.

What made it all worse was that they'd both graduated three weeks back. The senpai had gone last year: Chie signing up for cop school, Souji and Yukiko heading off to their respective universities, and Yosuke left behind to work crazy hours at Junes so he and Ted could one day afford to live with Souji here in Yokohama. Rise had already gone back to being Risette and, as she'd happily told Kanji, now had a tutor who gave her A's just for showing up. Not counting Ted – who still wasn't bored of randomly appearing in Yasogami classrooms - Kanji and Naoto had been the only two still in school. This meant they'd been hanging out with each other pretty much by default since the start of third year, him having only one friend outside the team and her still having precisely zero. And soon all that was gonna be over. Hell, he hadn't even seen her since just before graduation.

Graduating wouldn't change much for Kanji. He'd keep helping Ma at the shop, maybe take it over if Junes didn't send it under. But Naoto...Naoto was _smart_. She'd go to university, or start full-time casework, or something else that'd take her away from Inaba. She'd be more of a Souji than a Yukiko: almost never finding the time to visit, except she wouldn't even IM or text the way Souji did – because, unlike Souji, she probably wouldn't get why everyone—

"I bet they'll make a statue of you one day, Kanji-chan," Ted said, as a train horn sounded further down the track.

The train rolled in a few moments later and ground to a halt against the rails. The doors opened, and a short distance along the platform Naoto stepped off the train. Same dark navy coat as usual, teamed with a deep burgundy shirt and silver tie. Kanji had always had an eye for what she wore. Well put-together, y'know?

He strode toward her, Teddie waving enthusiastically behind him. "Yo, Naoto!"

Naoto quirked an eyebrow, first at Ted and then up at Kanji. "Why are you still here?"

He blinked back at her. "Uh?"

"Your own train was scheduled to arrive an hour ago. The others have presumably already left for the hotel."

_Nice to see you too_, Kanji nearly muttered. Ted got there first.

"Kanji-chan missed you so badly, he wanted to stay and wait for you." He gave her what was probably supposed to be a knowing wink, but came out like a bug had flown in his eye. "So I kept him company!"

Kanji elbowed him aside. "Belt up, Ted."

Naoto didn't say anything at first. Then she shook her head. "Your logic remains questionable, Kanji-kun." She picked up her suitcase again, and started walking toward the stairs that led up from the platform.

* * *

Contrary to popular belief among the team, Kanji had never actually left a letter in Naoto's shoe locker.

It wasn't a matter of not having the guts, though maybe that would've been an issue if he'd ever managed to actually wrench out his feelings and get them down on paper. Something kept stopping him up, like the cap on a shaken soda bottle: little signs seeped out here and there, but everything else stayed tossed around inside. If he could write one, though, if he somehow managed to spill out all his thoughts, he had no idea what it would say beyond _hey I really like you_ and maybe _just give me a chance_. What else did you put in those things? Kanji had never written one in his life, had never _wanted_ to write one until he'd met Naoto.

Part of the problem was that he couldn't remember the reason he'd fallen for her. He knew when – pretty much the first day they'd met – but why? To be honest, Naoto Shirogane had been kind of a jerk before she'd joined the team and still could be two and a half years on. Kanji strongly doubted it was deliberate or anything, and since he wasn't a shining example of princely charm either, he'd generally let it slide. Didn't explain why he had a thing for her. He'd used to think it was because Naoto was everything he'd never be: smart, good-looking, together, the best at what she did. Then he'd figured out that one of those things wasn't totally true and that another was half the reason for her occasional asshole-ishness.

Maybe he'd never understand it. Maybe that didn't matter, either.

* * *

The hotel's coffee shop was kind of bland – something Yukiko had quickly pointed out, along with half-a-dozen things the owners could do to improve it – and Kanji hoped it wouldn't take Yosuke and Chie long to fetch Souji from his apartment. Naoto was already on her second cup of black coffee. Teddie had wanted the same till Yukiko talked him into a strawberry milkshake instead; caffeine and Ted formed a scary combination.

Yukiko smiled at Naoto across the table. "So, how was your trip to your grandfather's?"

"Enjoyable."

"Is he well?"

"Yes, he's fine."

There was silence for a moment. Then, Yukiko said, brightly, "It must be very exciting for you both. Graduation, I mean. Are you going to university, Naoto-kun?"

"I have no plans at this stage." Naoto looked like she wanted to say something else, but whatever it was never made it out.

Yukiko shot Kanji a slightly desperate glance. He coughed, loudly. "I – I ain't going. No surprise there. You like it at Kanazawa so far, Yukiko-senpai?"

"Oh, very much! Literature's an interesting subject. It does make a nice change to work at the inn during holidays, though. Chie keeps offering to help, but she had enough trouble getting vacation just to come here." Yukiko frowned. "I think they're working her too hard. It'd be nice if we could hang out in the evenings and..."

Yukiko, Kanji reflected, talked about Chie a lot.

They were all supposed to head off to Rise's concert in two hours. Maybe Souji was already there. Wasn't often he got to see his girlfriend. But Senpai was a thoughtful guy, he'd have let them know if—

"We should go help find Sensei!" Ted exclaimed over Yukiko, bolting upright with one finger pointed at the ceiling – and knocked over his milkshake. Most of it went on his trousers – shit, strawberry on black, that was a nightmare – while Naoto's cap on the table took splash damage.

Ted looked down. "Oops." Across the table, Naoto looked slightly murderous. Yukiko unhelpfully cracked up.

Kanji grabbed Ted's arm. "C'mon, dumbass. We gotta get you cleaned up," he said, dragging him off to the men's bathroom with a muttering Naoto in tow and a giggling Yukiko left at the table.

Inside, he grabbed as many paper towels as he could and shoved half of them into Ted's hands. "Clean what you can reach and I'll get your shins."

Unsurprisingly, Naoto wasn't much help. "_Look_ at this," she kept saying between frantic swipes at her cap.

Ted cringed, trying to wipe down his thighs. "I'm bear-y sorry."

"I'll clean it for you," Kanji told her. "Just gimme a sec."

He was concentrating on helping Ted, but he swore he could feel Naoto's eyes on him. "That won't be necessary," she eventually said.

"C'mon." He straightened up. "It won't take long."

She hesitated, then handed over the hat. It hadn't been all that badly hit and he started blotting it with a wet paper towel.

"I really am sorry," Ted said again. "Yosuke and Chie-chan left _forever_ ago and I just want to see Sensei."

Kanji patted Ted's shoulder with his free hand. "Yeah, man, we all do. Right, Naoto?"

"I didn't throw a milkshake at anyone," Naoto pointed out, slightly petulantly.

"You got our room key, yeah?" Kanji asked, and Ted nodded. "Go upstairs an' get changed before the concert."

Just as Ted bounded out the door, two middle-aged men walked in, one of who spotted Naoto and shot her a glare. She grabbed the cap from Kanji, pulled the brim down to hide her eyes, and quickly left the bathroom.

It wasn't right, Kanji thought. But it was how stuff worked, even when it shouldn't.

He dumped the paper towels in the trashcan, walked to the doorway – making sure to shove past the older guy on the way – and went after her.

Outside, Naoto was staring across the café at Yukiko, who was about to fall out of her seat. "You're sharing a room with Teddie?"

He shrugged. "Somebody has to." A pause. "You alright?"

Naoto gave a quick nod - like he'd expected anything different - and weaved through the tables back toward their seats.


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: Some notes I didn't include last time...this is a short story, just a bit of fun while writing other fics. Expect far more frequent updates than Shortest Distance (not difficult)_

* * *

Rise was undoubtedly a talented singer, and her concert had been...enjoyable, Naoto supposed. The after-party was a different matter. Naoto's levels of tolerance for noise and socializing were equally low, and the sheer, dizzying number of people at the club had left her head pounding. They'd all blended into one bright smear of colours, their laughter and conversation blurring too into a raucous white noise she'd found herself drowning in. Yamato-Takeru had made things worse, insistently squawking at the edge of her mind until leaving early had become the only viable option.

Kanji had insisted on walking back to the hotel with her. He'd claimed he wasn't having fun either and wanted to leave. Naoto suspected that he simply didn't want her walking back alone, but rather than start an argument over the fundamental absurdity of such a position (she had a _gun_, for crying out loud) she'd chosen to acquiesce, largely due to exhaustion.

She fiddled with the brim of her cap. Despite Kanji's best efforts, it still smelled like strawberry milkshake. The convenience store sold cleaning sprays, one of which he'd already picked out and assured her would work. It was...nice of him, to offer to help. After that, he'd gone to the refreshments section and started picking out bag after bag of snacks and candy.

"Do you plan to eat all of that?" she asked, eyeing the bags in his grip.

"It's for the others. Thought they might not get much to eat at the party." He frowned. "Dunno how those kinda things work, to be honest. Maybe it's just booze."

"All of them are underage."

The frown deepened. "Better get soda too," he said, and headed over to the refrigerated drinks.

Kanji was being ridiculous. This was a normal state of affairs.

There were other states that were less normal, and far more troubling. Graduation meant change, a concept of which Naoto had never been fond. She would most likely be leaving Inaba, which troubled her even more. Despite – of course - being Yasogami High's top student, the plan had always been to return to her casework rather than bother with university at this stage. She'd made her intentions clear, but the teachers had still pushed her to apply. The teachers had also spent two years (_into the office, Shirogane, there's something we should discuss)_ pushing her to abandon the boys' uniform. They'd pushed Kanji, too; threatened to have him expelled at the start of the third year for poor grades and 'anti-social behavior'. The latter was unfair. The former, less so, and Naoto had tried to coach him in his worst subjects – a gesture to which Kanji had taken offence on a remarkable number of occasions.

When he'd explained to Naoto exactly _why_, these occasions had made slightly more sense. Apparently she'd been a little more brusque in her teaching style than she'd intended - and might have possibly, potentially, accidentally implied that he was stupid.

Perhaps she'd been equally rude to leave the party early. Rise had been too busy smiling and shaking hands to really notice and the others hadn't seemed terribly surprised, but it was entirely possible Naoto was missing something. She couldn't help feeling equal parts guilty and glum. One thing Naoto had learned was that, bad as she was at making friends, she was just as terrible at _having_ them. Rise and Chie had kindly attempted to cure her of that. Souji, too, in a gentle but slightly disconcerting manner that involved him being whatever Naoto needed him to be at any given point. The implication was clear: she needed to change to fit. There was some truth in that – discovering one's true self, so to speak - but there was also truth in _remaining_ oneself. How far were you supposed to go? Flawed as she was, was reinvention the only way?

Kanji hadn't asked her to change. He always told her what she'd done wrong when asked, but never said _don't do it again _or _do this instead_. He was flawed too, though, and she would most certainly have pointed out his hypocrisy had there ever been a need. Which there hadn't.

He stumbled back toward her, soda bottles stacked in his arms. "Shit, I'm gonna drop all this."

"Most likely," Naoto said. It took a few moments before she realized what he was implying, and grabbed some of the bottles.

* * *

Naoto didn't actually object to walking back to the hotel with Kanji, even though it involved carrying enough snacks and drinks to sustain a small army. That said, after so long as friends she still felt slightly disquieted around him. They'd grown somewhat closer over the past year and he accepted her as she did him, but there had always been something else there: some cliff-edge she'd instinctively shied away from. An edge she was worried she'd now tumbled over.

Kanji was simple and complicated at the same time, a contradiction which neatly mirrored the rest of his character. Strong and gentle, abrasive and compassionate, as ready to throw a punch as sew a stuffed toy. Naoto suspected that in many ways, she was no different: male and female, child and adult, light and dark. It had been Kanji's aggressive side she had witnessed first, in the police reports of his fight with Inaba's solitary biker gang. A long time had passed before she'd come to appreciate his other aspects, yet once she had, they were hard to ignore.

One day at the end of second year, she'd been rejected for a case in Sumaru City. Such rejections had happened frequently and continued to do so now. However, this had been the fourth case in a row, and – unable to determine whether it was down to her age or the rapidly spreading rumours of her physical sex – Naoto had been stung. Months before she'd insisted to Souji that she no longer had any desire to be an adult male, but circumstances sometimes made it difficult to cling to that conviction. Everything had seemed simpler with Senpai here; simpler, perhaps, than it ever really was or could be.

She'd been walking back from the police station toward the bus stop at the edge of the shopping district when she'd passed Tatsumi Textiles. Kanji had been sweeping the front step. If he hadn't waved to her, Naoto told herself, she would have kept walking.

Either her posture or expression had given her away. He had asked what was wrong, and she'd spilled the entire thing.

Kanji had listened carefully, brow furrowed in thought. Then he'd said, _They're morons, _which had helped more than she liked to admit. _You're fine as you are. If people don't get you, _he'd continued, gesturing for emphasis_, you hafta try to make them. And if they still don't, that's their problem_.

She'd never cared for the opinions of others. It didn't matter what people thought provided you were the best – and she always was. So she still wasn't sure why she'd blurted out that it wasn't _fair_, it never had been and it never would.

_No, it won't, _Kanji had told her_. So just be you. That's the best you can be, yeah?_

Naoto had never truly noticed Kanji until he'd said that. She hadn't stopped noticing him since.

* * *

"I woulda wound up walking," Kanji said. "Thanks."

Once the rain had set in, Naoto had used her phone to identify the bus route that would bring them closest to the hotel: a trivial task which had seemed to greatly impress him. "As I have said, there is no need for gratitude."

He stared straight ahead, gripping the rail of the seats in front. "Yeah. I know."

Both fell quiet, the rain pattering against the metal roof of the bus.

"Naoki said it rained on graduation day," Kanji eventually said. "Gym was freezing."

"I didn't go."

"Me neither." He grinned at her. "Figured I might as well piss off the teachers one more time."

"They – they told me I had to wear the girls' uniform for formal events." Naoto shook her head and stared down at her hands. "I don't like roles being enforced. Being instructed in how to present myself."

Kanji hummed in thought. A few moments passed before he spoke. "They said they'd bust me too, even after I explained that the bleach was _not_ gonna grow out in time."

"It's not the same," she said, without really thinking.

He shrugged. "No. But screw 'em anyway."


	3. Chapter 3

Rise's concert had been only half the reason for coming to Yokohama. The second, Souji's birthday, happened tomorrow.

Kanji's original plan had been for him and Naoto to piggyback on Rise's present, until Naoto had pointed out that Souji and Rise were together now and any present she'd be giving him probably wouldn't be appropriate as a trio. This meant Going Shopping. Yukiko and Chie had picked out their gift already, but Yosuke and Ted were both cutting it equally fine. Yosuke was the one who'd suggested Takashimaya, on the grounds that if he set foot in a Yokohama Junes he was going to impale himself on a steak skewer. (Chie had told him to let her eat it first.)

Takashimaya was definitely more high-class than Junes, but that wasn't hard. Each of the eight floors seemed enormous; a collection of different departments packed full of more stuff than anyone could want or need. Kanji and Naoto were standing on the second floor – Toys and Games – and, in Kanji's case, frowning at a stuffed red dinosaur.

"Nanako-chan's seven now, right?" he asked Naoto, and she nodded. "What do seven-year olds like?"

Naoto looked uncertain. "...Electronic components and crime novels."

He stifled a grin. "You weren't a typical kid," he said, and she shrugged.

He picked up the dinosaur and studied it carefully. Its t-shirt had a picture of the Cosmo Clock ferris wheel. He could and had made better, but it wasn't bad for mass-produced and it was pretty damn cute. Maybe it'd be more special for being a souvenir. Dojima hadn't been cool with Nanako traveling such a long way, so those of the team still living in Inaba had promised to bring her some stuff back. The dino might work. He tucked it under his arm.

"We're supposed to be selecting a gift for Souji-senpai," Naoto pointed out, while Kanji tried not to dwell on the plural. "Do you have any ideas?"

"N-Not really." Stuffed dinosaurs probably wouldn't be the best choice there. "You?"

"A thesaurus would be useful. I'm certain we could purchase one here."

Independent of Naoto's awful taste in birthday gifts, Kanji couldn't help noticing that 'we' again. Buying a gift together. They'd write both their names on a single present and it'd be awesome and would totally Mean Something. Then he realized he was going soft in the head, and accidentally scowled at a nearby shop assistant.

Naoto frowned up at him. "Is there something wrong with that idea?"

"Let's check the other floors first," Kanji said diplomatically.

* * *

At some point on the fifth floor, Naoto had wandered off. Kanji had been busy checking out pots, pans, and various useless kitchen appliances, and hadn't noticed her disappearance till he'd asked who the hell needed a bread machine if they had a damn oven and received no response. He'd debated just picking out a gift for Souji by himself, but she might not like it and maybe then they wouldn't be giving one present together and holy crap he was _definitely_ turning into a soppy idiot.

After searching the current floor, and the one above it, and the one above that, he still hadn't found Naoto. He did, however, see Yosuke trailing through the DVD section with a very worried expression on his face.

"You seen Naoto?" Kanji asked him.

Yosuke shook his head. "Nope. Ted?"

Great. Losing track of Naoto was one thing. A missing Teddie was another. "Damn, we'd better find him."

With the fifth, sixth and seventh floors covered, they headed down to the fourth. It was completely taken up by the clothing department – where, as Kanji really should've guessed, they found Naoto eyeing up clothing in the men's department and frowning at the sizes.

"Nothing here is extra small," she complained as he and Yosuke walked up.

He tipped a thumb back toward the elevators. "They got stuff for boys over that way."

She grimaced at that, and Kanji opted for silence.

Yosuke didn't. "What about the women's section?" he asked, smirking.

"I believe you'll find Teddie there trying on dresses," said Naoto.

Yosuke swore out loud and took off at speed. Naoto went back to studying a pair of pinstripe trousers.

The clothes in Takashimaya were definitely better than the crap at Junes, but some of them still looked a little flimsy. Kanji looked around at various items of clothing, mentally cataloguing things he'd do differently, until he remembered why they were here. "Did you wanna get clothes for Souji-senpai?" he asked.

Guilt flashed over Naoto's features. "I – ah." She clasped her hands behind her back. "Of course. The gift. Clothing is potentially appropriate."

"We don't know his measurements," Kanji pointed out. "I could eyeball 'em, but I wouldn't wanna get it wrong." He nodded toward the accessories area instead. "Maybe there's something over there."

Unfortunately, 'accessories' consisted mainly of racks of discounted scarves and gloves and hats. Naoto examined one scarf carefully, running the pale blue fabric through her slim fingers and letting the tassels drape over them. She had nice hands, but Kanji knew that already; sometimes they were easier to look at than her face.

"This would be a good gift." She sighed and let the scarf drop back on its hanger. "But this is the wrong season. Senpai wouldn't be able to wear it any time soon."

Kanji had made her a scarf last December. He'd seen her tugging up the collar of her coat against the cold, and thought, _there's something I know how to fix_. Then he'd knitted the scarf and never worked up the courage to give it to her. It was still hanging in his closet.

Maybe next year.

"A watch," Naoto declared. "That would be suitable."

Kanji grinned. "So he can tell if it's midnight?"

She blinked at him – then offered a slight smile back. "Perhaps we can find one with a built-in weather forecast."

They left the accessories section to head toward men's jewelry instead – but on the way, Naoto suddenly stopped. When Kanji glanced back, she was inspecting one of the mannequins. It was wearing a smart-looking charcoal jacket, single-breasted with a funnel collar. Naoto was holding one of the sleeves and tapping the metal buttons.

"Thinking 'bout getting it?" he asked.

"It's not my size."

"You could get a smaller one tailored." Hell, he could do it for her if the idea of being close enough to take measurements didn't send him into a tailspin.

"I usually have to, but this one is far too large." She looked at him, then at the jacket, one hand still rubbing the material of the sleeve. "You should consider purchasing it."

"Me?" Fine, it was a really awesome jacket, but he'd never do it justice. He barely pulled off mock leather.

"Yes, you. It would suit you." She paused. "I'll purchase it for you."

"Hey! You ain't buying stuff for me, alright?" Naoto might have the full weight of the Shirogane fortune behind her, and the jacket was pretty expensive – but damn, Kanji could buy his own clothes.

She looked a little irritated. "Do you like it?"

"Well – yeah. But dude, you've seen how I dress and that ain't it."

Naoto turned back to the jacket. "...You'd look very good."

Which, unfortunately for Kanji's wallet, totally settled it.

* * *

Kanji woke up the next morning earlier than he would've liked, mostly because Teddie was jumping up and down on his bed.

"Kanji-chan, wake up! It's Sensei's birthday!"

"Go jump on _his_ bed then," Kanji muttered.

Ted let out a deep, exaggerated sigh. "Can't. He locked the door."

Sharing a room with Ted was a trial of patience, but Kanji figured he still had it better than Souji, who was stuck with Yosuke, and Naoto, who was by herself. She probably liked it better that way but it was still kind of sad. Rise was in a similar situation, except with a bodyguard outside the door and an overprotective manager added to the mix.

"Fine, fine." He sat upright and shoved Ted off the bed. "Lemme get dressed, yeah? Then we'll go see Senpai or whatever."

Ted seemed mollified by that. It wasn't until Kanji was tugging on his shirt that the bear piped up again. "Hey, is that yours?" he asked, pointing to the charcoal jacket hanging on the back of the room's door.

"...Yeah." Kanji would never be able to look at it without thinking of Naoto, which made it either the best or worst purchase ever.

"It's nice! Bear-y dapper. Like my new hat." Ted picked up a neon pink baseball cap from the dresser. _'Yokohama_!' was printed on the front, next to a wobbly rectangle that was probably supposed to be the Landmark Tower.

"Great," Kanji said, and tried not to wince. "Didya find a present for Souji-senpai?"

Teddie frowned. "Whoops. Oh well, I bet Yosuke handled it. He thinks about Sensei a lot."

Sucked to have someone stuck on your mind, friend or foe or otherwise. Kanji knew that too well. It would've been great, he thought, if this shit could be _easier_; if he could just walk up to Naoto one day, look her in the eye and say_ I like you, I've liked you since we met_, and get it out of his damn system. Instead he kept turning himself in circles, finding endless excuses to keep things the same as always. _That _was easy.

So was doing stupid stuff. Like buying an admittedly awesome jacket because she thought it'd look good on him. Insisting on walking her back to the hotel when she didn't need it, just because he wanted to hang out with her. Generally pining after the world's most oblivious person for three years and not even knowing why it'd all started burning inside him to begin with.

...Damn, that was pathetic. When was he going to let go? He'd tried to get interested in other people, kept his eyes open at school, but it'd been fricking impossible with Naoto still around. It was pretty clear nothing would happen between them, and honestly, he was sick of hanging on every word she said.

There'd be no point confessing now, anyway. Things would get simpler once she left. He needed to move on.

"You think about Nao-chan a lot too, Kanji-chan." Ted had climbed back onto his own bed and put on the pink cap. "Yosuke talks about it sometimes."

Kanji felt his fists tense. "What's he say?"

"Different stuff. That you're lucky. That it's okay because Nao-chan's a girl now."

Of all the Naoto-related crap Kanji was trying to deal with, that was the one thing that didn't bother him. It had twice in the past, and in very big ways: first when he'd spent months tearing himself up over crushing on another guy, and then right after they'd pulled Naoto out of the television and he'd spent days too pissed off to even sleep. Then he'd calmed down, worked some stuff through, and realized that for him, it didn't matter. It mattered to Naoto, he _got_ that. She'd said she was okay with being a girl, that she'd accepted it, but fact was she still did and most likely thought a lot of guy things. Or maybe they were just Naoto things. There probably weren't supposed to be guy and girl things at all - but stuff never worked the way it should.

Shit, it gave Kanji a headache.

"It don't work like that," he told Ted. Then he hesitated. "Well, okay, it kinda does. But only because of what other people tell themselves." He slipped the jacket off its hanger and shrugged it on. "Hanamura's probably figured that out too."

Teddie shook his head. "I don't get it."

"Me neither." Kanji pulled open the door to the room. "C'mon, let's go wake up Souji-senpai."


	4. Chapter 4

By the time they made it to Landmark Tower, night was already falling. This made the visit to the observation deck a little more disappointing than Naoto had hoped, but seeing the city lit up was pleasant in its own way. Souji appeared to be experiencing less enjoyment.

"You go ahead," he kept saying, each time Rise tried to drag him away from the elevator and toward the edge of the deck.

"Dude, we came up here for _your_ birthday." Yosuke shook his head. "You said it was a good idea!"

As Rise tugged him closer to the glass, explaining how great the view was, Souji leaned further back. He'd turned alarmingly pale.

Naoto couldn't comprehend why anyone would suffer a fear of heights. She'd adored them since childhood, when she'd often climbed the trees on her grandfather's estate. Being high up gave her a perspective often lacking in daily life: a sense of her position in the world, an understanding of how insignificant some things truly were. (It might, she acknowledged, also be a form of overcompensation.)

A few metres away, Yosuke was standing in front of the glass and indicating something to Teddie; from what Naoto could see, he was pointing at the Cosmoworld theme park and its giant ferris wheel. Chie and Yukiko were debating whether they'd be able to see Mount Fuji from here, Chie insisting that she'd climb it one day and trying to persuade Yukiko to tag along. Kanji stood alone, peering intently down at the city.

Naoto walked over to him. "The view is excellent."

Kanji blinked down at her, startled. "Oh. Yeah." He looked back at the glass. "S'really different to Inaba. Kinda blows my mind."

Casework demanded frequent travel. Naoto had journeyed across Japan and Yokohama was just another city. It had never really occurred to her that some of her friends had lived their entire lives in a single small town. But thinking about it, hadn't they been equally impressed with Port Island?

"I suppose," she said, for want of anything better.

Something in Kanji's expression shifted, but she couldn't place it. "You've seen all this sorta stuff before, right?"

"Yes."

In a way, she envied him. When it came to home and travel, Naoto had more in common with Souji: skipping from place to place, rarely having the opportunity to settle. Unlike him she had the benefit of her grandfather's estate, but her recent visit there was the first time she'd been back in two years. Her stay in Inaba was one of the longest she'd spent in a single location – as substantiated by the enormous collection of possessions she'd somehow accumulated in her small apartment.

Throwing things out remained a challenge. Discarding Inaba would be harder still.

She glanced up at Kanji, who kept his gaze on the city lights below.

"Guess you'll head outta Inaba," he said. "Now that school's over an' all."

Naoto raised a hand to her cap unthinkingly, her fingers gripping the brim. "Perhaps."

* * *

Examining her relationship with Kanji was less a slippery slope, more a sheer drop.

Naoto knew herself to be extremely intelligent. She absorbed information like a sponge then found reasons and means and places to put it to use, the correct pegs in the correct holes. The problem was that she'd never been able to understand _herself_. She could recognize base emotions - anger, frustration, sadness, fear - but why those emotions occurred remained a mystery, as did anything more sophisticated. This included her situation with Kanji. She'd long realized he was attached to her – how could she not? – and that by now she felt...something, in return. But pausing to consider this would mean identifying the something, then having to respond to it – and she knew too well that her emotional reactions were fundamentally different to those of others. How did one even begin to respond to such a situation? And once started, where would the process stop? Thus Naoto had done her best to never recognize either of their feelings, to never categorize their relationship the way she did with the rest of the team, to never think about any of it.

Over the past year, this had proved increasingly unsuccessful. There'd been no sudden switch, at least not that she recalled. More a crawl of realization, at first, a gradual tilting of the world to some strange and unsettling new angle – but once the tipping point had been reached, there was no return. Naoto had tried to map the trajectory of events in her mind, _this is where it all started, here is where it will go_. A mathematical explanation, a vector equation. Numerical. But with no idea of the origin or even the function's plane, there was no possibility of prediction. All she could do now was watch it shoot or spiral in whichever high-speed direction it chose, and attempt to deal with the consequences.

She thought she'd improved since she first arrived in Inaba, that she'd learned to relate to others and relinquish control. That in a sense she'd finally become socialized, a decade later than she should have. But there were still deficits. Ways in which her emotional responses were lacking, or inappropriate, or simply tin-eared. The only way to compensate for this was rigid self-restraint, and two years on Naoto's personality still demanded that she remain in control of all aspects of her life. The loss of that was a terrifying prospect – but no worse than the creeping, sinking sense that she might be missing out on something vital.

...Perhaps taking the first step forward _was_ to take control.

* * *

"I'm gonna throw up," Kanji mumbled.

"Not on your new jacket," Naoto said.

"C'mon, Kanji-kun, that coaster was awesome!" Chie made a rotating motion with her hands. "The cars were _spinning_!"

He leaned sideways against the wall, head pressed against the brick. "Yeah, I know."

Yosuke looked equally pale. "I think my stomach fell out. Someone go search for it."

"I did tell you to stay down here," Souji said. He'd remained perched with his arm around Rise on a bench opposite the ride. If he wasn't Souji, his smugness would have been highly irritating; as it was, Naoto only mildly wanted to strap him in the coaster and send it on its way.

Rise pouted. "I wanted to try it too. Hey, Kanji-kun, wanna go up there a second time with me?"

"Ooh, ooh, Teddie too!" Ted said, hopping up and down. Kanji responded with an unhappy groaning noise and mumbled something about throwing up again.

From Naoto's perspective, the coaster had been enjoyable. Specifically, it had been reasonably fast, which satisfied her only real requirement of a carnival ride. The movement of the cars had been startling at first, but easy to predict after the first few rotations. Unfortunately, Kanji had distracted her by screwing his eyes shut and gripping the safety bar until his knuckles turned white. They'd shared a car with Yosuke and Teddie, the latter of who had proved more distracting still by trying to climb out mid-ride.

"Do you need to sit down?" she asked Kanji.

He stared down at her as if surprised, then slightly shook his head. "Nah. I'm good. But…if it's okay, I don't wanna go on anything fast for a bit."

"You guys are all wusses," Chie complained. "Let's ride the Cosmo wheel, then."

Souji blanched. "Let's not."

"C'mon, Souji-senpai." Rise grabbed his arm and hauled him up. "You don't wanna miss out on _everything_, right?"

* * *

Unlike the tower, the Cosmo ferris wheel looked far more impressive at night. The spokes were lit up in blue and green, the clock in the center glowed bright yellow, and a few minutes after they arrived a rainbow of light flashed across the entire wheel. It was a pity the ride itself was relatively slow, but at least three members of the group seemed grateful, Souji in particular. He remained standing firmly in the center of the capsule, again refusing Rise's attempts to urge him to look through the glass.

"I heard this ride is bear-y romantic," Ted said, fluttering his eyelashes at Yukiko. Souji smiled at Rise, then slipped an arm around her waist and pulled her close. Yosuke kept staring firmly out of the capsule at the city below.

This time, Kanji was hunched over on the capsule's small bench, with his elbows resting on his knees. Naoto glanced first at him, then at Souji, still holding Rise at his side.

When he'd still lived in Inaba, before the Wild Card had fallen dormant and they'd all grown a few years older, Souji had been perfect. Beautiful, for want of a better word. Naoto had been close friends with him, or as close as anyone got to Souji. Falling in love with him had seemed like a logical next step: one crucial point on the path to a valid conclusion. Except it had never happened. Naoto had adjusted herself to the idea, dreading and expecting it in equal measure, and yet her feelings had never quite caught up.

Kanji was far from perfect. He wasn't even particularly handsome. But he was, Naoto thought, beautiful too.

She sat down beside him, watching him stare down at the capsule floor. "You don't wish to admire the view?" she asked.

"Did that earlier. Don't really want to look at the city anymore."

"Why?"

A long pause. "No reason."

Naoto eyed him carefully. "Really?"

He hesitated, then let out a heavy breath. "You like it better than Inaba, right?"

"I don't like it better. My work simply requires that I travel." She shifted against the bench. "Souji-senpai and Yukiko-senpai left too."

Kanji looked like he wanted to say something to that. Naoto wished he would.

"Yeah," he eventually mumbled. "They did."

"So." She swallowed. "I fail to see the issue."

He shrugged. "Maybe there ain't one."

What did that mean, Naoto wondered. She tended to read too much into everything - when you struggled to understand, you sought evidence where you could - but did it mean he'd decided to move on? She was astonished that he hadn't already, having witnessed her flaws first-hand; disbelief had been one of several reasons she'd disregarded his feelings for so long. There had been others, of course: her self-recognized inability to process emotions correctly, her issues with gender identity, her unwillingness to compromise herself. All of which she'd never been able to express to anyone, including Kanji. The only other choice, or so she'd thought at the time, had been to deny his attentions completely. Yet even knowing all that – even being painfully aware of her defects, of what he must have gone through in part because of them, of her utter selfishness - she didn't want him to move on.

_Take control._ But how?

Naoto opened her mouth to speak - then closed it again, uncertain of what to say. She stood from the bench, gave him a quick nod instead, and stepped toward the glass.


End file.
